


Under the Fireworks

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Banter, Come Eating, Creampie, Creampie eating, Cunnilingus, Dominant Reader, F/M, Female Dominance, Female Dominant, Femdom, Submissive Character, fluffy sex, sub!Thermite, submissive men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: Sequel to 'A Little Bit of Aloe'. Also a commission for Baysian.





	Under the Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baysian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baysian/gifts).



Jordan is...in a bit of a pickle. On the one hand, he got his hands on some goodies for you in a canvas bag and he’s less than a kilometre from home. On the other, his car broke down and it’s raining cows and horses. Yes, it’s far heavier rain than ‘cats and dogs’ would imply. He rubs his hands and fiddles with the tight bandages on them - oh he’d fuck up his bandages too if he went out in the rain. But...you’re waiting up for him, and he can’t bear to ask you to tow him back in this weather. Well. Walking it is.

And so that’s how he ends up sneaking into the house, wet footprints and all. Although considering that his socks are making an embarrassing squelching sound with every step he takes, Jordan is surprisingly stealthy as he manages to sequester your gifts in a nook that you never check. And just in time too, because you pop your head into the living room just as he drapes his bag on a nearby rack to dry.

“Well, well, is that Hephaestus in my home?” Your purr is low and dark, the mere sound of it igniting a small fire in his belly. He turns around, grinning as suavely as he can manage, and flips his imaginary hair dramatically as he looks at you with bedroom eyes. 

Unfortunately, he looks more like a goof than a Casanova and you end up choking back a laugh. “Ah, it’s just my dummy puppy.” Your tone turns deadpan, but the undercurrent of laughter bubbles forth and you let a giggle out, unable to contain it. You pad up to him once you calm down, your eyes alight with mirth and raking over his pouting features. “And why is my dummy puppy soaked to the bone?”

Jordan pouts and holds his arms akimbo, tilting his chin up sassily, “Well, your dummy puppy got caught in the rain.”

“You mean he didn’t fall into a river?” you quip dryly, eyes still glued onto the chiselled planes of his chest that have been revealed by his soaked shirt. “Certainly looks like it.”

“Meanie.” Is all he can say, although he flexes his chest just for you. His nipples, hard as diamonds, poke out from the thin fabric and you lick your lips. Damn, if he wasn’t shivering you’d jump him then and there. 

But your protective instincts take over and you bundle him into the bathroom instead, choosing to strip him down yourself instead of waiting for him to give you a striptease like he always does. No time, you tap his nose and force him into the already filled tub (which was for yourself, by the way). He yelps once his ass hits the bottom, his arms hanging in the air awkwardly as he tries to prevent getting them soaked even more. The bandages go off quickly and you ignore his whines as you clean them out. 

You have no idea how he got dirt in them but you’re not going to ask, because he sure as hell isn’t going to give you a straight answer with how he’s whimpering ‘abuse, abuse!’ at you. He can be such a wuss, your puppy. Good thing he’s good looking. Even after you’re done and you wash him off, he still pouts at you and sits in there petulantly while waiting for you to finish your quick shower. 

“Don’t pout like that.” You roll your eyes as you slather the tincture that Gustave gave him on his still-healing burns. “You’re the one who decided not to call for help.” 

All right, you got him there. But it doesn’t stop him from quivering his lip at you until you bandage him up nice and neat. He pouts and whines and shoots those damned puppy eyes at you until you sigh in resignation and press little kisses to his bandaged arms. Jordan perks up then, leaning into you and sliding his fingers into your hair the moment you reach his chin and cheeks. 

“Mmm, a kiss a day keeps the doctor away,” he quips at you, lips already pressing against yours in a hungry kiss. His hands, though stiff and slightly painful, wrap around your waist to drag you up against him. 

More like it keeps the pain away, you think with a smile as you kiss him back. His mouth is heavenly as always, his lips massaging yours and his tongue slipping against your own spit-slick lips and through them to tangle with your own tongue. Moans fill your senses and his, hands wandering and legs sliding against each other until you don’t know where you end and he begins. 

But like all things, it has to come to an end. And that end comes when a loud, sharp bang jerks you both out of your bliss. Jordan startles and barrels into you to drag you to the floor in a knee-jerk reaction. You’re barely any better, but when you catch sight of a colourful display in the night sky out of your window, you laugh and drop your head onto the ground. 

“Fuck, it’s just fireworks,” Jordan groans and relaxes into you, dropping his full weight onto you and ignoring your sudden wheeze. 

“H-heavy...” you croak out under him. 

“Oh, right.” He rolls off you and helps you up, his attention captured by the dazzling colours that light up the night sky. “Hey, they’re firing it earlier this year.”

In reply, you hum and nip over to your personal cooler to grab two beers. It’s a quaint little tradition of yours - to sit on the balcony and watch the fireworks with a beer or two and good company. As a way to celebrate that you both get to see another year together. There’s only one couch on the otherwise expansive balcony, but you ignore the free cushion beside him and opt to sit in his lap instead.

Jordan happily wraps his aching arms around your waist and grabs the two bottles, holding them for you until you’re nice and snug in his embrace. At least, until you feel something jamming into one buttcheek. 

“Is that your erection?”

He quickly takes a drink of his beer and pushes yours into your hand in an attempt to dodge the question. What? He can’t help it if it turns him on whenever you change his bandages, he mumbles as much into your neck. 

What a horndog. Still, you like that he’s constantly horny around you, even if it tires you out sometimes. “Fine,” you groan and tell him to grab your beer for you before you get up to change position. “Hold those and don’t let go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he pips and holds them up by his shoulders, shuffling down and spreading his knees wide so you have a comfortable seat to straddle. With your butt braced on his thick thighs, you tug his pants down enough to free his cock and balls. His fat cock springs out, just as hard as you felt it, and throbbing with a nice pearl of precum already beading at the tip. 

Drool pools in your mouth, but you hold it back and pull your panties aside so you can finally impale yourself on him. A long, loud moan rips itself from your throat to mirror his as you sink all the way down to the base and feel his balls resting against your ass. 

“Oh fuck, you feel so fucking perfect,” Jordan babbles with already dazed eyes. “How do you always feel so good?” Oh boy, the pain must’ve gotten him good if he’s already trying to dirty talk you and sucking at your breasts. Well, you’re not going to pass that up. 

“Keep going, puppy,” you moan and plant your hands on his shoulders so you can get some leverage to bounce on his lap. The dull clap of your thighs and his hips and the slick slurps of his mouth devouring the soft flesh of your breasts are the only sounds other than the pops of fireworks in the distance. How cliche and romantic, you murmur to him under your breath between his own mumblings against your skin. His grin tells you he agrees with you, but he’s too busy riling you up with that tiny Southern twang of his to break it with a ‘yes, ma’am’. 

Jordan grunts when you tighten down on him and grind instead of bounce, his thighs trembling as he realises he’s supposed to pick up your slack. It’s hard though, with his hands in the air and no way to thrust up except to use his delicious abs. And use them he does, as he rolls his hips and uses his powerful legs to fuck you fast and hard, just the way you like them. Unfortunately, his dirty talk peters off as he concentrates on keeping his rhythm up, the bottles in his hand shaking when he has to tighten his grip to keep them from falling. 

Lucky for him, you’re very, very close. Hugging his head close to your chest, you arch your back and let him pound you until your breasts are bouncing against his face. Like this, he hits your g-spot with unerring accuracy and before long, you’re clenching your teeth tight to stop a guttural cry from tearing out of you. You ram yourself down hard, grinding and enjoying his new frenetic pace that pushes your orgasm to a new height. 

For him, your heavenly pussy combined with the pain and how you’ve smothered him to your chest pushes him over the edge and he cums with a muffled swear. The bottles clink as he flails a little, legs and abs trembling as your pussy has his cock in a death grip to milk his seed out of his clenching balls. He spurts deep into you, his cock throbbing and bobbing even inside you to force more of his cum out. 

And when he comes to after shaking off the cobwebs caused by his orgasm, he finds you stroking his hair and waiting for him to look up. 

“You owe me an orgasm, puppy,” you tap his nose and get up, biting your lip at the honestly obscene slick sound from him slipping out of you. Jordan, on the other hand, just stares greedily at your combined juices still sticking to your pussy lips and inner thighs, and follows you when you back away to perch on the thick balustrade of your balcony. “Come and clean me up while you’re at it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes out in a daze as he drops to his knees without a thought, scooting between your thighs and holding you securely with an arm over your thighs and the other wrapping around your back. Like that, he hauls you close to him as he buries his face into you, nose nudging against your swollen clit and his tongue probing between your soaked lips to find your entrance. 

God, what a talented tongue- oh! He’s digging deep, searching for his cum that he pushed so deep into you. It takes him a while, but his persistence pays off when you cum just from his probing and nuzzling of your clit and push his cum all the way down to your entrance. The first taste makes him moan, and the next licks and scoops earn you his deep groans when he stretches his tongue deep into you to urge every drop of his seed out of you. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you’re definitely sure he managed to clean you out because not only did you cum another time, he also managed to get his neck soaked in your slick. When you push him away he grumbles and pouts, but obeys and carries you over to the couch, stripping your panties away at your request while putting his cock back into his pants. 

The silence that reigned for a good while afterwards is peaceful, contented. And as always, Jordan just refuses to shut up. “Hey...you wanna get a dog?”

You raise your head from his shoulder and look at him with a furrowed brow. “A dog? Why?”

He looks a little guilty at that, his hands fidgeting on your waist and around the bottle. “I mean, don’t you get lonely when I’m not home? I mean, there isn’t much to do around here other than work and take care of the house.”

Silence. Utter. Silence. “I don’t-” Then you burst into laughter and whack him on the shoulder uncontrollably. “You think I’m bored at home? Do nothing while you’re away?” You wipe a tear away and poke at his disgruntled expression. “Honey, I work long ass shifts when you’re at work. I’m off on the same days you are.”

Oh. Ohhh. “Well-”

“I don’t just putter around the house, waiting for you to bring home the rice bowl by yourself. You think I stare out the window overlooking the driveway, mug in hand, wondering when my man will come home from the war?” The last statement is coated in a thick Southern twang, almost like a caricature of his, and he rolls his eyes at your imitation and how you pretend to swoon in his arms. Your laughing doesn’t do anything but make his pout deepen; the boop on his nose too.

He grumbles a little then gathers himself, deciding to roll with it with a sigh. So he puts on his haughtiest expression and doffs his bottle on his chest. “Well, of course, you would. Your big handsome soldier could use some pining every now and then. Why they’re the only thing fuelling me while I’m away.”

A snigger. “Oh okay, let me try.” You clear your throat grandly and gesture with the bottle, “Oh my beloved Jordan, to think that you and I lie under the same starry sky-”

“Oh my god, no.” Not that terrible accent again.

“The celestial body that watches over my brave warrior who toils in the bloodied battlefield of his enemies-”

Jordan is cringing now and trying to shut you up by forcing the mouth of his bottle into your lips. “Okay, okay, I get it! Now stop using that goddamned accent!”

You lean back and raise both hands into the air to the time of the fireworks, pretending to worship the sky with an even more dramatic voice. “Rain down your protection on- eek!” 

Jordan loses his patience and blows raspberries into your neck, hands abandoning his bottle to tickle your sides instead. Oh no oh no oh- you collapse into laughter, writhing in his lap and fighting to escape his clutches to no avail when he tackles you into the couch instead. “Dishonour! Dishonour on the name of the army of the-!”

“The what?” You wheeze out between giggles. “You’re a cop, man!”

He stops his tickling to lean down and stage-whisper, “ _Just pretend_.” Then he goes back to his normal volume, “Dishonour on the honourable name of the mighty men and women who serve, the great name of the president, the-!”

You mimic his stage whisper, “ _Don’t forget the flag_.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” he whispers back. “The flag of the United States of America!”

Jokingly, you swoon and fan your face with a hand. “Oh~ My hero!”

Jordan sits up and flexes, kissing his admittedly big biceps, and nods imperiously at you. “Yes yes, your hero indeed.” Then he swoops down to kiss you deeply, hands pulling you off the cushions so he can pull you flush to his warm body.


End file.
